Ayes to the Right

njFew people remember Nick Johnston‘s career as a Tory MSP, which ended more than twelve years ago. But his decision to come out for a Yes vote today is still telling, not because he’s personally significant but because it demonstrates that the desire for Scotland to do better with self-governance does indeed span the conventional left-right spectrum, just as the No campaign does.

To be fair, though, his arguments aren’t exactly outside the independence-minded mainstream. Anyone from the Radical Independence Convention or the SNP or the Greens could have said that “while problems and opportunities with particular resonance in Scotland can go by the board at Westminster, it’s just not possible for that to happen in a Scottish Parliament“, or noted that “inequalities inherent in British society fester even more strongly in Scotland, leading to despair and often apathy“. Wanting a “a more dynamic economy, or measures to tackle poverty” is hardly bloodthirsty Thatcherism.

The fact is that any ambitious young centre-right politicos should be seeing the opportunity Johnston sees. It’s impossible to see a strong future for the Tories under devolution, particularly given the current positions adopted by the SNP. A party that combines a degree of social liberalism and protection for public services from privatisation with a centre-right position on tax and spend will always hoover up their votes, especially if that’s a credible alternative Scottish government to Labour.

An independent Scotland will almost certainly keep voting to the left of the rUK, on average, despite the polls showing a smaller gap than many think, but independence will open up space for everyone to get out from under Westminster’s stifling influence and for our politics to be reshaped.

The Fergus Ewing wing of the SNP and the Johnston end of the Tory party aren’t that far apart (and independence would force the Tories to cut their ties to London and adopt the Murdo Fraser plan: Murdo coincidentally succeeded Johnston), the SSP might stage a comeback, Labour might rediscover an interest in something other than the constitution, and Greens, well, I think we’re already winning mindshare from SNP supporters and others on the left who want something more radical than NATO, the Queen and the pound. And the SNP itself: some of its activists and MSPs would go home – job done – but the rest would find other things to work on, new alliances to make based on issues other than the constitution. I can’t wait to see it unfold.

Time to close Longannet

5037469308_0718473d8d_bThe most recent figures on Scotland’s energy mix are a small step in the right direction, with renewables accounting for 29.8% of 2012 generation (don’t be misled by the consumption figures at the beginning there).

The same data, however, shows that coal accounted for almost 25% of Scotland’s output. That figure will be significantly reduced for 2013, because Cockenzie closed in March of this year, a plant which amounted to about a third of Scotland’s coal-fired capacity.

The remainder is almost entirely Longannet. It’s Scotland’s number one source of carbon emissions, and it’s a killer: literally. Stuttgart University did the sums for the years by which coal shortens lives, and Longannet’s annual toll was substantial.

The third key figure in there was that 26% of the energy Scotland generated in 2012 was exported, almost exactly the same amount as was generated from coal. Essentially, we’re burning vast amounts of coal at Longannet and massively aggravating climate change not “to keep the lights on”, but just to keep Iberdrola’s profits up.

This isn’t just a failure of the market: it’s entirely consistent with the dirty little misdirection at the heart of the SNP’s energy policy in their last manifesto. As I put it in 2011: “On the environment, the 100% renewable pledge looks good, until you see that for the SNP it also means retaining all the climate-busting generating capacity for sale.”

The climate doesn’t care whether coal’s burnt for export or domestic consumption. And no amount of renewable generation does a damn thing for climate change unless we use it as an opportunity to close down coal, oil and gas plants at the same time. The figures are clear: Scotland can’t afford Longannet.  It needs to be shut down as soon as possible, and proper training and investment put in to support the hundreds of people who work there. And yes, coal plants must be shut before the nukes: their time will come.

pic credit

Three funerals, and a past that refuses to die.

Seamus Heaney in Dublin, 1985, protesting against the South African government

Seamus Heaney in Dublin, 1985, protesting against the South African government

The death of Margaret Thatcher should have been a chance to move on, were it not for the apparent idolisation of the former Prime Minister by David Cameron and, in Scotland at least, a competition between Labour and the SNP over who could distance themselves most from the Thatcher legacy.

Then came Heaney. His funeral was broadcast live on TV, not just a poet but a formidable public intellectual. He was a sane voice in the often dysfunctional politics and public life of the North and the Irish Republic. Heaney protested against both South African apartheid and British policy in the North. Two years after Mandela won the Nobel Peace Prize, Heaney took home the award for literature. The Nobel committee cited ‘works of lyrical beauty and ethical depth, which exalt everyday miracles and the living past’. What, though, happens when the past stops living?

The death of Mandela is of course a great tragedy, but the curious thing about his passing is the rush to remember events twenty years past without paying attention to the present. The world needs new Mandelas, and not just for the sake of renaming public squares and suburban closes but for the sake of changing a future instead of dwelling on the past. This is, after wall, what Mandela sought to do. It needs more Heaneys too, and whatever the sycophants of various political movements like to say the leaders they happen to have at the time can never be of either sort. You can’t copy greatness any more than teenage boys can become revolutionary leaders by wearing berets. It just ends up as a shallow simulacra of something that once was.

With Thatcher, Mandela and Heaney gone, it feels like now is the time to start living in the present and to leave the past where it belongs. Otherwise we do its giants, its villains and ourselves a disservice by fretting on their legacies.

Lagom and the art of welfare maintenance

April Cumming is Vice-Chair of the left-wing think tank the Scottish Fabians. vikingsIn this article she talks about the limitations of a blind application of ‘Nordic principles’

In my recent travels through circles of Nordic enthusiasts I picked up on an interesting concept; ‘Lagom’. It is a word that has no direct equivalent in the English language, and speaks to the character of the Swedish nation. Synonyms like ‘sufficient’ or ‘adequate’ fail to capture the contentment or balance lagom entails.

On paper it means ‘just enough’, and relates to the central ethos that defines the terms of citizenship; live within your means, acknowledging that there is a balance to be struck between personal comforts and living harmoniously within your societal group. Its key role as a philosophical underpinning in the culture of Swedish life and indeed in the policy that forms the societal framework serves to reinforce a certain way of thinking; that consensus should be of primary concern; that personal control should be strived for; that all have a role to play and none should be too proud.

From an outside perspective this historical tendency toward conformity and emotional moderation could be construed as holding both negatives and positives with regards to individual freedoms. However, this philosophy forms the basis of many of the societal norms in Sweden, and is prevalent to the same or perhaps in parts lesser extent across the Nordic countries. It is the bottom line of their ‘social contract’, in large print, for all citizens to see. According to a popular legend, the word’s etymological roots stretch back to the Vikings when mead, their drink of choice was passed, ’laget om’, or ‘around the team,’ in a horn flask so that each got his fair share. That idea of a ‘fair share’ for all of those in the team has transcended years of social change and has remained a central part of normative attitudes. The Clan thrives when all members live within their means, in balance, and contribute to shared interests. Hence, the welfare ethos that has been so recently lauded by Scottish policy makers has been hundreds of years in the making.

This has been recognised in contemporary Swedish political discourse by academics and by politicians. Kaj Embren, a sustainable development guru based in Stockholm highlights how reinforcing that central idea of ‘balance’ is crucial if today’s Vikings are to weather the stormy economic seas. Fundamentally this means balancing the public and the private sector, and recognising that while private interests are key they cannot function without a strong public sector. The case must be made for “a society of equitable balance – a balance between capitalist models and social policies, between economic growth and environmental sustainability, between national interests and international responsibilities”.

At the Scottish Fabian Society seminar last week we discussed some of the disparities between the policy approach of Scotland and that of the ‘Nordic model’ with regards to Social Security. There has of late been some degree of lionising of one particular way of doing things, which can at times be frustrating as the vast majority of scholars in this field will tell you that the reality is vastly more complex than political rhetoric might reflect. The model is just as much about fairer taxes as it is about better public services. Further to this, the prevalent theme in the speaker’s contributions overwhelmingly was one of trust. Trust in political systems in both the UK and in Scotland is at an all-time low, and political actors are far more likely to engage outwith established parties. In order to convince the populace to acquiesce to a high tax, high spend economic framework you need a high level of trust in public institutions and government. This was highlighted by Ingela Nauman, Senior Lecturer in Social Policy at Edinburgh University. In a broad ranging speech she highlighted both the lessons we could learn and the barriers put in place by cultural norms. One key difference stands out in light of the economic detail published in the white paper. High taxation in Nordic countries is necessary in order to provide the levels of public services we have all recently admired from afar. In order to do this you must convince the public of the case for such a model, and demonstrate competency with regard to budgeting for social security spending. This model has been compared to a bumble bee, in that while the body (representing the state) is heavy it is still capable of flight. This rotund economic insect can only take flight if the members of the state give their consent, and consent is only possible when the societal norms of a country change and trust is restored. Many in Scottish political and academic circles see constitutional change as a means to this end, but rest assured that whatever your political colouring this will be no short term project. Until we can develop something of our own sense of ‘Lagom’ that goes beyond political jargon and party buzzwords and actually speaks to the dire need to reconnect as a society of equals we will never establish the equilibrium needed for Scotland to flourish.

The White Paper only tells half of the story that voters need to hear, and when only half of the picture is painted we are left no more certain as to what we are supposed to see. We are left questioning why key elements are obscured, why the artist has chosen to leave so much to the imagination. I am of course using an overly convoluted metaphor for tax. Perhaps if the masterpiece of nationalist ambition had contained a little more than just sunny uplands and provided detail of what lies in the foreground the population could gain a better idea of whether the rhetoric idealising the Nordic Model goes beyond that; simply rhetoric. We need to talk about tax. This means for Unionists explaining what we would do as part of the UK, and for Independence campaigners what we would do as an independent country, and go beyond implying that a Scandinavian approach could simply be applied as a panacea for Scotland’s social problems. We have far to go to reach the levels of public trust and consensus that exist across the North sea, but whatever route we take to get there it is a long journey worth making.

Our Friends In The North: The Nordic dream without the navel gazing

It was with trepidation that I sat down to watch Our Friends in the North, BBC Scotland’s attempt to address the Nordicism that has crept into the independence referendum. It is an important part of the debate and the closest Scotland can get to imagining an alternate reality. Alex Salmond doesn’t really seem to get the Nordic countries in anything other than economistic terms, but as a former oil economist maybe that is to be expected. What Our Friends in the North and its host Alan Little did so well was demand answers to the questions created by the rhetoric. It is very easy to project your dreams onto something you don’t know much about, and is easy to imagine the First Minister sitting at home with a big Norwegian flag on the wall like a teenage boy staring wide eyed at a poster of Che Guevara he’s bought off the internet.

The programme asked a fundamental question: Is the Nordic economic model one Scotland can follow? There was some mention of shared heritage and attempts to problematise Scotland’s position bridging the gap between the British and the Northern, but it was largely an economistic view of events.

The excellent Alan Little began by popping off to Finland to find out about Nokia and childcare. There was an admirable attempt to situate Finland as a post-colonial country like Scotland might become. There was discussion of the economic crash of the early 90s due to dependence on the Soviet Union and a mention of how Scandinavian economies are not that diverse, but parallels could be made with the collapse of the largely London-based UK economy after the last financial crisis – in Finland at least the government had the tools to come up with a policy tailored to the country.

The childcare aspect was a detour into social policies, and these are perhaps the hardest to replicate. It also began a theme for the rest of the show that was never explicitly articulated. Many of the people encountered or interviewed were professional women enjoying high levels of access to both professions and childcare. The integration of educated and working women is one of the things that truly divides Scotland from its easterly neighbours, but as gay marriage so happily proved, that kind of equality is about mindset as much as money. You want it and then you fund it, rather than deciding you have the spare cash for such luxuries.

Next up was Sweden, and Alan Little went to speak to The Spectator’s Fraser Nelson. In London. Nelson is a man who knows very little about Sweden and not an awful lot more about contemporary Scotland. He gave the Cameronite line on the country, painting  the Swedish New Moderates and their liberal coalition partners as guardians of a progressive society. He claimed improved economic performance and employment, ignoring the fact that since the Moderates have been in power there have been serious tax cuts and in increase in temporary, lower paid jobs. Youth unemployment has increased and educational reforms, including the Free School concept, have created myriad problems. Stockholm is also suffering from an acute housing shortage due to the refusal of the Moderates to build accessible housing rather than suburban developments.

Alan popped back to Scandinavia to interview Lars Trädgårdh, a Swedish academic who has spent a lot of time in America and become a bit of a talking head for this kind of thing. Lars took Alan up onto the roof of the Higher Education where he works and pointed at the headquarters of the tax authorities. The problem was it isn’t the headquarters of the tax authorities and has not been for quite some time. I know because I used to live in it, but seeing as the tallest building being the tax headquarters is an established narrative trope in any guide to Sweden it seems a shame to get caught up on it.

 There was an assertion that Sweden doesn’t have a generous welfare state, which was a bit of a lie. It has an extremely generous welfare state, but it is built on a more expansive understanding of welfare than state unemployment benefit. This includes paying people to not work when they have young children, wage-linked unemployment funds and more robust attempts at education and retraining than that provided by either the current or previous Westminster governments, or by Britain historically for that matter. Alan Little’s assertion that “This isn’t the Sweden many on the left imagine” is true in part, but it almost seemed like it was too good a discovery to not make a point of. The truth of the matter is that many of the tenets of Scandinavian welfarism find no points of reference in British models or parlance. It isn’t Robin McAlpine’s William Morris inspired consensual welfarism, but neither is it Fraser Nelson’s utopia of hard work and sticks over carrots.

Last up was Norway, though Denmark wasn’t allowed a mention for some reason. Norway is the most prosperous of the Nordic countries, and as Alan strolled around Oslo’s redeveloped waterfront of speedboats and yuppie flats straight into the Nobel Peace Centre everything looked rosy. Norway is undeniably a great place to live, and definitely a much better bet than contemporary Britain by all kinds of measures. He visited a former industrial area reborn through a private business school. At an employment fair members of Norway’s so-called ‘dessert generation’ (because they are young enough to have only turned up for the sweetest part of the country’s journey from poor to rich and are known for wanting to have their cake and eat it) flocked to tables to become investment bankers or recruitment agents. The conclusion though was fairly unambiguous – even a tiny public oil fund would do wonders for Scotland’s economic and social rebirth.

There then came a very important question: why couldn’t Scotland pursue this Nordic model with further devolution? It was a question Little did not try to answer, but looking back over what was said some of the conclusions were self-evident. Could devolution make a Scottish oil fund, help protect Scotland from the economic collapse of a larger neighbour or allow it to radically reform its welfare and monetary policy? Probably not.

The best contribution though came in the show’s final lines. Alan Little is in the privileged position of speaking as a Scot who has gone not just to London but all over the world. He understands the context of change and political evolution, and his final question was the right one to ask. Should we not see the referendum in its broader, European context? Is this cutting Scotland off, or is it a repositioning at the nexus between two sets of neighbours?

Tags: , ,